


The Warlock's Daughter

by Brightgemini



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brightgemini/pseuds/Brightgemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourteen years before City of Bones, Jocelyn and Luke are recognized as former Circle members trying to pass for Mundanes in New York and are murdered to avenge the treatment of Downworlders at the hands of The Circle. Now orphaned, two year old Clarissa Fairchild is left in the hands of the only allies her mother had left, Magnus and Tessa. And thus the tale is changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call

The call came in the middle of the night, yanking Tessa Gray out of a peaceful slumber with the angry buzzing on her night side stand. It was Magnus Bane, she knew it before she even looked at her phone, no one else would call at such a ghastly hour. Her voice was tired in her greeting, though she knew they both knew she was prepared to talk him down from whatever drunken and borderline illegal adventure he was plotting and to coax him to go to bed. What she heard on the other end of the line gave her pause however. Silence. There were no party sounds, no hooting and hollering from whatever bar she'd imagined him in, not even audible evidence of street activity. There was just Magnus' voice, grave and quiet as he said her name. Her heart thudded, “What is it? What's happened.”

“Tess.” He repeated, “Tess it's Jocelyn.”

“Jocelyn.” She echoed, her tired mind leaping to make the connection between the name and the vague memory image of red curls and bright green eyes and the tale of a runaway shadow hunter with an infant in need of protection. “Jocelyn Fairchild?”

Tessa had met Jocelyn two years previous, after the battle that put an end to The Circle's reign of terror over the downworlder community. She'd been disinclined to trust the young woman at first, given her position as Valentine's wife, but Jocelyn had seemed as genuinely against The Circle's methods as Tessa was her self. And then there had been the baby. Tessa could never turn away a child in need, so when Jocelyn had come to her, requesting she stand in for the Iron Sister at Clarissa's children's ritual, she couldn't say no. Not to mention Jem had been the Silent Brother present.

“Tessa, are you listening to me?” She became abruptly aware that Magnus had continued talking while she'd been lost in thought as his voice broke through the memories.

“Yes.” She hesitated, actually having no clue what he'd been going on about, “I... no. I'm sorry Magnus, can you repeat that?”

“I said Jocelyn is dead.” It sounded like a bad joke, but his tone was grim and serious in a way she rarely knew Magnus to be. “The mundanes are calling it a car accident, she was found in the burned remains of a truck belonging to her friend, Luke. He was another shadow hunter, an ex-Circle member, they found his body there too.”

“You don't think it was an accident.” It wasn't a question, she knew neither of them did, the odds of two shadow hunters dying an a mundane car accident was small, the chances of them both being former Circle member were even smaller.

“Jocelyn came to see me earlier to day. She thought she was being followed.” Magnus admitted, a strange tone entering his voice, “She left something with me, said she was putting her trust in us in case something happened to her.”

Tessa's mouth ran dry, thinking of all the things Jocelyn could have left them with, all the dangerous things she might have that people were looking for, that people may kill her or Magnus for, “What is it?”

There was a pause and when Magnus finally replied, his tone was dry and unimpressed, “Her spawn.”


	2. The Choice

“We need to tell her”

It was the last thing Tessa wanted to hear Magnus say, especially in regards to their daughter. To Clary. She wasn't theirs. Tessa knew that. Clary even knew that, but in the fourteen years since Jocelyn Fairchild's death, she'd become theirs. They'd fallen into an easy pattern of life, quickly shifting from late nights wailing for her mom to make-shift family trips to the zoo, from Magnus totally not crying on her first day of school to parent teacher interviews and chaperoning school dances, all the while maintaining as much normality as they could provide her. It was what Jocelyn had wanted for her daughter and so Clary had gone to public school, made mundane friends and learned to not talk about the fact that her parents didn't age or much of the other shadow world stuff they tried to keep hidden behind closed doors. Tessa had known that they couldn't hide the truth from Clary forever, knew that one day, they'd have to tell her what she was, but now, as she turned sixteen, it seemed much too soon.

“She's still a child, Magnus.” Tessa protested, “Even by The Clave's standards.”

“I know, my dear, but the longer we put this off, the more she'll resent us keeping it from her.” Magnus reasoned, which was a change as it was usually Tessa's job to be the responsible one, but she could see the fear in her dear old friend, fear of losing the child he'd never planned on having.

“Give her one more day.” Tessa pleaded, “One more day to just be a silly mundane girl. We can tell her everything tonight.”

Magnus sighed, but nodded, giving her a firm look and kissing her forehead, “Tonight.”

“What about tonight?” Clary appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She'd grown into a beautiful young woman over the years, Tessa noted, not tall, but slender, with long red hair and an unmistakeable resemblance to her biological mother. She wore bright red leggings that matched her red sneakers under a shimmery, dark blue spandex skirt that fell to mid thigh and a white tank top with a rhinestone decorated jean jacket over top. Clear influences from both her and Magnus style wise, though she seemed to show a tad more preference to Magnus' style today.

“Tonight would be a good night for you to not be out late.” Magnus suggested, “Tess and I have something we want to discuss with you and you know how she frets when you're late.”

Predictably, Clary pouted, “But Dad! Can't it wait, it's my birthday! I'm supposed to be with Simon tonight! We're going to a poetry reading to support Eric and then we're supposed to hang out.”

“I know, Biscuit.” Magnus soothed, flitting over to her in that way that he had, returning her pout and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “But this is something that shouldn't wait much longer.”

“But we could talk about it in the morning?” Clary suggested hopefully, her gaze turning on Tessa, “Please Mom?”

Magnus shot her a look, but Tessa, wanting to keep her baby as her baby for a long as possible gave him an apologetic look, “Waiting til tomorrow couldn't hurt, could it?”

“You girls will be the death of me.” Magnus groaned.

Taking that as a yes, Clary grinned, hugging her foster father tightly before skipping over to kiss Tessa's cheek, “Thank you! I won't be too late, I promise!”

“You better not be!” Tessa warned in her typical concerned mom voice as the red-head made a break for the front door of the apartment.

*****

She met Simon at Java Jones, a favored hang out for a pair of caffeine addicted teenagers who were far too nice to tell their friend Eric that listening to his poetry was akin to hearing someone strangle a cat. A very depressed cat who over used metaphors. Regardless of the affront to poetry behind him, Simon greeted Clary with a wide grin. “Hey birthday girl.”

“Hey Simon.” She grinned, flopping down on the warn out velvet couch beside him and shooting a pained glance at Eric, “I hope you haven't been waiting long.”

“Oh just one long poem.” He chuckled, “Although, you should know, you missed one of his better ones.”

“I'm heartbroken.” She laughed.

“I'll buy you a coffee to help you survive.” Simon joked, getting up.

“Oh, no, no, no, I got it!” She waved at him to stop, digging into her purse and pulling out a twenty, “Birthday money from Magnus. Found it under my pillow as usual. Like a still believe in the birthday fairy.”

A familiar look flickered across Simon's face before he took the twenty and headed for the counter. She'd accepted that Simon was, on some level, never going to get used to her odd family dynamic, the way she casually switched between calling her parents by their given names and mom and dad or that her parents were not married and had never actually been romantically involved, let alone shared a bedroom. Part of her enjoyed watching him squint and shake his head and try and put his finger on what was so odd about their makeshift little family.

“Here you are, Milady, the plainest, blackest, strongest sludge in the place.” He teased as he returned with her coffee and his fancy, frothy latte.

“Thanks.” She grinned, accepting the mug and her change. Once she had everything stored away where it needed to be, she turned back to Simon, “Okay, so? You said you had a plan for tonight?”

“That I do.” Simon smirked mischievously, digging into his pocket and producing a pair of fake ID's, “We're going to a club.”


End file.
